


eden, submerged in darkness

by bokutoma



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: I am so sorry, I am the worst, Lots of Angst, Multi, Please Forgive me, What Have I Done, andrew has snakebites, angst ahead because i hate myself, but also lots of gay so that's cool i guess, neil has blue hair and a septum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2018-12-08 05:58:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11640366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokutoma/pseuds/bokutoma
Summary: neil josten has been on the run from his father, a crime lord and the owner of popular baltimore club lola, for almost as long as he can remember. he intends to keep running. that is, until he sees a face from his past, casting the alluring illusion of comfort and familiarity over him. though it goes against every principle his mother had taught him, neil finds himself drawn to the foxhole, a hole in the wall club in south carolina. he just hopes that when the time comes to run, he'll be able to break free from this spell.





	1. neil, unbalanced

perhaps if neil weren't so starved for familiarity, for seeing the same faces day in and day out, he wouldn't have thoughtlessly packed his bag, stuffing everything he owned into a duffel bag with ease. six outfits, a roll of quarters, and a binder with money and newspaper articles were easy enough to pack. perhaps if neil weren't so desperate for a face that he had seen before, one that he had memories of, he wouldn't have taken the greyhound from millport, nothing, to _something_ , south carolina. perhaps if neil was not nathaniel, was actually neil josten, he would have actually had someone to send him off.

instead, he was neil, but not really, so he thought,  _what have i done,_ and, _fuck it,_ while staring out of the window of the bus. instead, he was neil without a family, so he ran his fingertips over the somewhat rough texture of his duffel bag in a halfhearted attempt to soothe the anxiety bubbling in the pit of his stomach. instead, he was neil with nothing, so he contemplated his next dye job and hoped to god it wouldn't end up looking like shit like the last hairdresser he had used. jesus, even if he had planned on staying, he would never have used her again.

faintly, he thought again about the circumstances that had brought him to his point. the beginning was, technically, with his birth, or symbolically, the day mary wesninski, his mother, risked her life by stealing him away to lead a life on the run. at this point, though, neil didn't quite feel ready to dredge up those memories. he wiped his palms of imagined stains absentmindedly, reflecting on yesterday's news.

_"well, todd," one of the five o' clock reporters had begun. "it's not often we report these kinds of stories, but considering that this seems to be a growing epidemic, we here at the station felt that it would be beneficial to talk about before this wave hits our beloved millport."_

_"how right you are, jim," replied the other, presumably todd. "tonight, we take you all the way to the east coast, specifically south carolina, for this bit of news." already, neil could tell that there was nothing positive about the news about to be told; there was too much hunger in the way the reporters looked at the cameras, as though their appetite had been whetted, but now they only craved more._

_"there's a local, decently popular club there known as the foxhole, one that has been mocked in recent years, as it recently came under new management. personally, i feel as though it's about time to change management again after eighteen year old janie smalls' attempted suicide last night. this is the third suicide attempt under the roof of the foxhole in as many months - it's time for some change around here."_

_the rest of the story was something about suicide prevention - whatever it was, neil hadn't given it a second thought. instead, his eyes focused on the portrait of one of the foxhole's posters. was that...no, it had to be a coincidence. kevin day would never be caught dead in a club as small as that, even after breaking his hand and damaging it severely in a bar fight._

_but when the camera cut to pre-recorded interviews with the regular patrons, neil noticed that it was, in fact, kevin day, heartthrob, wonder boy extraordinaire, and blast from neil's past that had been on the poster. there he was, in all of his glory, acting as though this was where he belonged, where he deserved to be._

_maybe he did. and maybe if kevin could belong somewhere, neil could too._

this was the stupidest thing he'd done in years, the stupidest thing he'd been  _able_ to do in years, and he was somehow surviving on the dregs of exhilaration that had coursed through his body at the news. to belong somewhere was such a foreign idea that he had fooled himself into thinking that this would solve his problems, or at least keep them at bay long enough to pretend to be normal for just a little while longer. it was too late now, though. he was on the bus, riding somewhere not so far away from his childhood home as he would have liked, but committed all the same. briefly, he regretted not getting off at the previous stop, but this wasn't something that he could change now.

the bus rolled up to a town just a thirty minute car ride away from the palmetto foxhole, and neil found that he could no longer tell whether the feeling consuming him was fear, excitement, or some numbing combination of the two.

* * *

neil had to admit, he liked the way that turquoise looked on him. it might make him stand out here, would certainly have made him stand out in conservative millport, but once he reached the foxhole, he would still end up the pale, lifeless wallflower that he had always been. a faint smile rose, unbidden, to his lips as he looked in the mirror of the salon and slipped his gold plated septum, a small eighteen gauge that he had gotten from his mother once upon a time. he hadn't been able to wear it since two towns before millport, so to feel its weight was soothing. in addition, he slipped his cheap earrings into the double piercings on both ears, eyes widening slightly at how different he looked. this was, perhaps, the most and simultaneously the least nathaniel he had looked in years, and he honestly had to confess that he liked it.

he stepped out of the bathroom and, having already paid, slipped out of the salon and into the gradually darkening dusk sky above him.  _pretty,_ he thought, watching the textured shadows dip and bend across the curves of himself. absentmindedly, he flagged a taxi and told the driver where he was going. the driver sighed at the mention of the club, but made no further protests.

the ride passed neil in a blur, the twilight that brushed the interior of the car with soft shadows also painting his mind with a comforting blankness. for the moment, at least, he was nobody and nothing, and it felt  _good._

then he was there, the orange neon lights from the club across the street bathing his face with a glow that seemed to strip him of all pretenses, and he was pushing a couple of twenties into the driver's hand and getting out, duffel bag in hand. it wasn't anything near evermore, the most famous of clubs, the King of Clubs, that place where kevin had come from, with its lab experiment drinks and pulsating, hypnotizing lights. it was nothing like lola, all burning hot flames, a city alight, the place where he was born and where he might have died. it was quieter than a club should be, but still vibrating with a hum of life that only the best of them could have.

as though in a trance, he stepped forward, placing one foot in front of the other until he was pushing open the cool glass door and being enveloped by the humid air of the people within. quietly, with none of the energy that seemed to possess everyone in the club, but with all of the fire, he arrived at the bar, sitting in the corner and placing his bag on the nearest stool to dissuade anyone from sitting next to him. from his vantage point, he could see the dj of the night, a small man, perhaps five foot even, with startlingly white hair and snakebites that looked as though their namesake matched his personality. he looked entirely bored with the whole of the club scene. it confused neil; even with his nerves set on high alert, he felt  _life_ rushing through his veins just by breathing in the electricity in the air.

a quiet cough, followed by a breath of laughter once neil jumped, off the barstool and one hand on his bag, ready to leave. "easy," he said, holding his palms up in a casual form of surrender. "i was just going to ask you what you wanted to drink."

neil nodded, hesitantly easing back into his seated position. he thought for a moment, then suppressed laughter at his decision. it didn't quite work, as his lip quirked in a faintly amused smirk. "an arizona sunset, please," he said. 

the bartender laughed again, though it still did nothing to ease neil's nerves. "manners and a virgin drink? have you ever been to a club before?" 

the faint, acrid memory of flames flickered in neil's memory for an instant. "more times than i can count. i just prefer to keep myself private."

luckily, the bartender (roland, from his small badge) took that as the unsubtle hint that it was meant to be and left him alone. neil went back to people watching, unsure whether the feeling creeping along his spine was paranoia or a warning. 

it might have been minutes or it might have been hours, but roland eventually returned with his drink. neil finished it disinterestedly, then ordered another. two turned into four turned into eight, and suddenly it was two in the morning, and neil knew now that what he felt wasn't paranoia. there was a man in the corner watching him.  _david wymack,_ some untouched part of his brain told him.  _owner of the foxhole, lover of broken things._ and it wasn't just that. roland was too friendly, too genial, and snakebite boy looked too angry, too ready for a fight. 

and then he made eye contact with kevin day, and his stomach bottomed out. this had been a mistake. kevin remembered him. _kevin_   _knew who he was and was going to tell._

casually, or as casually as he could with shaking hands, he dropped bills on the table for roland and grabbed his bag, finding that at two on a thursday morning, there were very few patrons left. distractedly, neil realized that other than those he had made note of, there were only three more people in the bar, one of which was staff. how had he not noticed? he had gotten too comfortable, felt like he could stop running when there was nothing for him to do but to run. he sped up, hearing what were presumably kevin's footsteps behind him.

he chanced the stealthiest look over his shoulder that he could manage. perhaps that was the reason that he hadn't noticed snakebite move, hadn't seen him until there was a barstool flying into his stomach and he was tumbling back, smacking his head against the cool floor of the club.

"shit, minyard. what the fuck were you thinking, you delusional midget?" with his flickering vision, neil could only assume that the tall man was speaking to snakebite.

"kevin wanted him to stay. here he is, not moving."

"perhaps moving a little  _less_ than what day might have wanted, hm?"

and as neil passed out, protectively curling around the only possessions he had, he heard kevin's voice, so changed from what it had been all those years ago, say. "well, at least he did the job properly, for once."


	2. kevin, chaotic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if snakebite came near him again, neil was going to show him six different ways to break a wrist  
> he was pretty good in a fight, though

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I RESURRECTED  
> god i've been meaning to come back to this SORRY take some andrew content as my apology
> 
> also, listen to miss murder while you read this. good mood music.

neil woke up no more than ten minutes later, his first instinct to check the zipper on his things. untouched, but that meant nothing. the only thing that settled his nerves was the look on kevin's face. 

it was blank. no recognition, nothing that would indicate that kevin either remembered him or had his lackey search his things.

of course, after the most immediate danger had passed, the ache in his stomach came to the forefront of his attention, not to mention his temple where it had struck the floor. he gagged, rolling over slightly and retching. nothing came up but a little liquid, and he thanked his miserable diet and schedule that he hadn't had time to eat. vomiting in front of people who he wanted to show strength in front of was not the best way to start.

he rolled back onto his back, fingers still locked tightly around the straps of his bag, and squinted up at snakebite. he was going to fucking end that miserable son of a bitch if he touched him again.

now that he was paying attention, though, snakebite was actually andrew minyard, the only paid club patron who had turned up their nose at evermore, especially in favor of a shit club like this. shit. it made sense, then, why kevin was here, especially after his injury. didn't matter, though. he was still a dipshit, not worth mentioning by name.

blinking to focus his vision, he lifted one hand weakly and flipped minyard the bird.

snakebite grinned, the corners of his mouth stretching too far, and tapped two fingers against his temple. "better luck next time."

"fuck you," he responded, only slightly miffed that his voice came out in a wheeze. "couldn't you have punched me like a normal person?"

snakebite looked ready to take him up on that suggestion, but roland was out from behind the bar, his expression some strange cross between a laugh and worried concern as he pulled neil to his feet. "jesus fuck, kid, you sure have a mouth on you for a guy who just took a couple hard hits."

neil shrugged eloquently.

then wymack stepped out from where he had been, positioned behind the younger men, and neil tensed instinctively. "andrew's a bit raw on manners," he said by way of introduction.

"no fucking way, really?"

a manic giggle from snakebite, followed by a harsh look from wymack. minyard backed up, hands in the air and bowing so deferentially that it would have been obvious to anyone just how mocking the gesture was.

kevin tapped his foot impatiently. dramatic twat. 

"what have done to offend you, o great gods of this shithole?" neil asked, his eyebrows drawing low as he belatedly recognized that they must have wanted something from him, despite kevin not recognizing him.

"you didn't introduce yourself to the family," snakebite simpered. neil really was going to punch this fucker in the jaw if he didn't stop.

"neil josten," wymack said.

he blinked. "what?"

"you were kind of a trendsetter in millport, weren't you?"

he wanted to cry. he laughed instead. "it's not that hard to do." his eyes flickered briefly around the room, wondering who would be the easiest to duck around to get to the exit. probably roland, but he was the farthest as well. 

"start some trends here," wymack continued, like neil was a dog to be commanded.

"sorry, not interested in a place i've already vomited in with none of the fun."

snakebite cut in. "surely that was everywhere in mill-fuck, though."

another rude gesture sufficed as a reply to the bastard, but he continued, his eyes not straying from wymack's no matter how much he wanted to look away. "i'm not the kind of guy that parties with celebrities. not good enough to."

"true, but irrelevant."

oh,  _fuck_ kevin day if he was this insufferable after speaking three words. he was about to say as much, but as soon as his gaze locked onto the other's he was suddenly struck by how familiar he looked, as if not a day had passed since he stood with him and watched as his father hacked a man into a million gory bits.

"completely relevant," he replied, fighting the urge to stick his tongue out and laugh. christ, he really had hit his head. "i'm leaving."

"staying."

"ignoring you."

wymack cut in. "not to stop this wonderfully intelligent exchange-"

"aw, but coach, they were about to get to the really good insults, like dummy and the like." snakebite's smile looked like it could eat everyone in this room alive.

wymack dismissed him with an irritated flick of his hand. "we need you. you lose yourself in music, sell yourself to the scene so completely, like there's nothing outside of this room. it's what we need."

it was a horrible idea for a thousand reasons. kevin could figure out who he was. the foxhole was often televised, its shittiness not as bad as everyone made it seem. he should flip them all off, kick snakebite in the balls, and leave the city immediately.

but, when it came down to it, he missed being in a club. a  _real_ one, not the garbage ones in millport. he had felt alive from the minute he had heard snakebite's mixes, and he didn't know how he could give up that feeling again.

"i'll think about it," he offered, fully prepared to accept his inevitable doom, but wymack stopped him with an outstretched arm. "all of you fuckers, out," he barked, and they all obeyed for some unfathomable reason.

"do you have a place to sleep?" he asked, and his voice was so soft, such a change from earlier that neil couldn't help but stare at him helplessly. 

"i only ask because i called down to your club to see when i could come down and get you, and they told me you had gone. they also told me that you slept in the kitchens sometimes."

"none of your fucking business."

wymack paused, looked at him knowingly, then fished out a key and tossed it to him. "there's a couple rooms upstairs. not really meant for sleeping, but they'll work for now. get some sleep, kid. you'll be subjected to kevin's inquisition in the morning."

neil was so busy looking at the key that he didn't notice when the other four slipped from the club, wymack closing the door quietly behind him.

he only took his attention off the key when a wave of nausea gripped him by the stomach. he fled to the restrooms, heaving up the arizona sunsets he had drank earlier. "i'm sorry," he repeated over and over, feeling ghostly hands in his hair and across his cheeks. "i'm so sorry."

when he was done, he grabbed his duffel from the front, found the employee stairs, found a room, and went to bed, mind swirling with things he would never have.


	3. andrew, combustible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it sounded like a dream; it tasted like damnation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ighsugwgi i missed this garbage fic so much i missed writing neil so much i missed kicking andrew's ass so much

the next morning, neil was downstairs to see a minyard twin waiting for him. from the lack of snakebites and the small frown on his face, his money was solidly on the twin being aaron.

"things?" the other minyard asked. it would have been impossible for him to be less interested in the answer. christ, this kid was like snakebite with a hangover.

he simply shook his bag in response. he wasn't in the mood to play nice and talk either. aaron accepted this without comment and spun on his heel, marching promptly out the door. by the time neil had caught up with him, other minyard was quite literally walking into traffic. 

tires squealed as a very shocked cabbie tried to avoid hitting him. once the immediate danger passed, a slew of curses spewed from the older man's mouth, and neil waved apologetically as he jogged to where aaron was walking.

he stopped abruptly at the sight of the car across the street. it was sleek, black, and clearly expensive: not exactly the kind of thing that belonged in the vicinity of the foxhole. but aaron had pulled out the key and was unlocking the door, then the trunk. "bag in the trunk."

neil reluctantly parted from his duffel, closing the trunk and managing to linger long enough with a slow stretch that other minyard walked back to the front of the car first. for a moment, he thought he saw eyes flicker across his figure, but aaron was already in the front seat lighting a cigarette by the time he opened the passenger seat door. 

they lingered, aaron not moving until his cigarette was gone, then carelessly flicking it on to the concrete just outside the door before pulling out of his shitty parking job. "neil josten," he said, an unfriendly smile curling sinister at the corners of his mouth.

"that's me."

"not many of us are in town over the summer," aaron said, and if it was possible to sound gleeful while also sounding completely bored, he had nailed it. "slow season for promoters, summer. too many kids coming from college, going crazy and shit. you'll make five of us here."

neil knew about the cousins - rumor had it that they hadn't left the columbia area since andrew's official start at the foxhole a mere year ago - but his stomach still sunk at the idea of being in close quarters with kevin, though.

"didn't hit it off with kevin last night, did you?" aaron asked, the same contradictory tone in his voice.

"no, i think the only hitting that was good about last night involved your brother, a barstool, and my stomach," neil replied, tone sharper than intended, but he thought nothing of it. if aaron didn't know his brother was a bastard, then there wasn't much he could do about it. "you'll have to forgive me if that hasn't exactly endeared me to him."

"i don't have to do anything," aaron snorted. "i don't believe in forgiveness, and it wasn't me you offended by trying to bolt out the door. not the first time someone took a look at him and walked the other way, anyway."

"well, i'm sure andrew had his reasons too." the name tasted strange on his lips, and he vaguely resented even being indirectly compared to snakebite at all.

"not even sure why wymack is even bothering with you. millport's gotta be your first official stint, and nobody in arizona even knows where it is."

"well, you know it's in arizona," neil pointed out wryly. "and i guess i was just in the right place at the right time."

"do you believe in fate?"

"no. you?"

an almost imperceptible snort. "luck, then?"

"only the bad kind."

"we're flattered by your high opinion of us, of course." immediately after delivering that line, he swerved into the next lane, ignoring the cars that were about to pass him.

neil shot him a scornful look, to which aaron merely smiled that incredibly horrible smile once again.

"don't be so afraid to die, josten."


	4. nicky, undeterred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "he packs light. i wish i could travel like that, but hell if i ain't materialistic."

kevin day and riko moriyama were the wonder twins of the modern club scene. kayleigh day, kevin's mother, and tetusji moriyama, riko's uncle, had developed a style of clubbing known as exy, and it had quickly spread from japan to ireland, and finally worldwide. kevin and riko were raised for this. when evermore was nothing more than an empty lot and some sketched blueprints, they were helping taste test and creating lighting displays. after kayleigh died in a car accident, tetsuji had taken kevin in, but this only fueled the obsession, considering that tetsuji lived above his club. riko and kevin were raised by the paid patrons just as much as tetsuji, and even were home-schooled in an effort to continue grooming them.

kevin and riko had never seemed to spend a day apart prior to kevin's transfer, causing a furious obsession with the two of them in the club scene. everything seemed to be a dream for the top two exy "players", as they were called, until the news dropped; kevin had broken his hand in a bar fight. 

the very next day, wymack announced that kevin was temporarily working as co-manager of the foxhole. fans were devastated, feeling that he should at least continue to work at evermore, but expecting that kevin would return. surely it was just too traumatic for him that year.

when kevin officially let news leak that he was a signed patron of foxhole starting the upcoming fall, club goers were furious. ever since, the foxhole had seen no shortage of vandalism, and there was a weekly officer patrol on saturdays, when bar fights tended to be the most common.

neil wasn't looking forward to being in the middle of that.

aaron pulled into the parking lot of what was apparently wymack's apartment complex smoothly. neil had been informed that, while he would have usually stayed with abby, the club's PR staff and promoter, wymack hadn't thought that staying in the club with the minyard twins, their cousin nicholas, and kevin would go well. instead, he would be staying with wymack.

joy of joys.

upon parking, aaron was out of the car almost instantly, already headed to where the others waited by the curb. neil stopped to get his bag out of the trunk, relieved to have its familiar weight on his shoulder again.

when he looked up to the people standing curbside, he was the center of attention.

the twins flanked kevin, dressed identically for some strange reason. however, aaron's bored demeanor - clearly finished with neil since he fulfilled his duties - was a clear contrast from snakebite's raw smile. if anything, the good cheer simply threw him off further. snakebite had been smiling when he flung the barstool into neil's stomach, after all.

nicholas hemmick was the only one wearing anything even remotely close to a pleasant expression, and he extended his hand as neil approached. neil was glad for anything that distracted him from kevin, and so shook the other's hand willingly.

"i hear you haven't been in south carolina long," the other man said, pulling neil up onto the curb. "enjoying it so far?"

"it was fine," neil responded noncommittally. 

"i'm nicky," he said, offering a friendly grin, squeezing neil's hand once before letting go. "cousin to the minyards and professional when it comes to handling my shots."

neil studied his tanned skin and thick black hair before returning his gaze to nicky's warm brown eyes. "by blood?"

nicky laughed. "you wouldn't think so, right? i get it from my mom. dad went on some fancy ministry trip years ago, and 'rescued' her from mexico. she was very grateful to be rescued, i'm sure, especially since we haven't found decent mexican food in all the time i lived around here." he was animated when he talked, rolling his eyes and gesturing wildly with his hand. he jerked a thumb at the others behind him. "you met the rest of the motley crew, right? andrew, aaron, kevin? wymack meant to be here, but some rival promoter is on his ass and harassing abby, so he's taking care of that. luckily for you, we have his keys."

"lucky," neil repeated before angling his body to maneuver past nicky, gesturing to the building in front of him. 

"don't you have any other bags?"

neil kept walking.

undeterred, nicky sped back to his side as they all kept walking. "wymack's apartment is nice. he makes most of the money, so he lives here while the poor people couch surf."

"you have a nice car for someone who thinks he's poor," neil said rather pointedly.

"that's why we're poor." 

neil had to stifle a snicker at that. then snakebite opened his mouth.

"bought with aaron's mother's life insurance. figures that she'd have to die to be worth anything, hm?"

nicky shifted uncomfortably. "easy, andrew."

snakebite laughed with his whole body, something that should have looked easy. instead, his muscles were still tensed. he never let go of that predatory control for an instant. "why bother, cousin dearest? it's a cruel world, right, josten?"

"it's not the world that's cruel. it's the people in it."

snakebite doffed an imaginary cap. "pardon me, monsieur philosopher," he said, then giggled hysterically.

they entered the apartment and rode all the way up in silence. neil did his best to ignore the persistent heaviness of kevin's presence, eyes flicking across the car instead. finally, they were there, and once they reached apartment 724, aaron dug around in his pockets to find the keys before unlocking the door. neil eyed his pockets with scrutiny. they were too flat to contain a pack of cigarettes, yet he was certain aaron had put them away in his pocket earlier.

"here you go, neil," nicky said, rousing him from his thoughts. "your new luxury suite."

he'd known that he would be staying with wymack, and had even been fine with it once aaron told him, but now, his stomach roiled at the thought of sharing with someone, especially a man who was old enough to be his father. he couldn't do this; he'd never be able to sleep, constantly paranoid that every breath was someone after him, every creak wymack with ill intentions.

he should go back, stay in the room above the foxhole, but how would he explain that to the others? furthermore, how would he convince wymack to let him stay there? wymack's patrons were known for their troubled pasts, so surely he would understand.

he realized that nicky was looking at him with confusion and realized that he'd made a mistake. still, it took a deliberate change of posture from andrew to cause neil to move, feeling pale eyes bore into the back of his head.

he'd wait until snakebite and kevin were gone. then he could figure this out in peace.

wymack's apartment was cluttered as hell, coffee mugs, overflowing ashtrays, and stray paperwork littering every free surface except for an immaculate couch. wandering over to it, neil saw a sticky note explaining where his blankets would be, as well as a few other essentials.

he was almost to the window to check for a fire escape when nicky spoke and turned his blood to ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey yell at me on tumblr @jostenne  
> also thank you??? for 44 kudos at the time i'm writing this?? wtf i don't deserve u all
> 
> also as i'm rereading nora makes it briefly sound like aaron has a flat ass and i think that's the funniest thing ever


End file.
